


The Sands of Titan

by orphan_account



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Timelines, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-12
Updated: 2019-09-12
Packaged: 2020-10-17 02:44:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20613653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: The Time Stone did not allow Stephen Strange tolookthrough different timelines; it did, however, allow him to live and relive the same battle over and over again. He gritted his teeth, sand stuck and grinding between them, and spun time backwards once again.He needed to find a time when they won, when they could win. It didn’t matter how many bodies he watched fall. Didn’t matter how many timeshisbody fell. He couldn’t accept failure.He tried not to watch the blood vanish from his hands.





	1. Chapter 1

“We need a plan,” Stark began.

Stephen watched as people stopped paying attention and shook his head. He separated from the group to meditate and opened the Eye of Agamotto. The future unfurled to greet him; it encased him in green, cool to the touch, beckoning him into it, like the maw of a monster.

He dove into it.

***

**One.**

Stephen looked around the first future, staring at his hands. They moved how they always did—still clumsy enough to remember the fading scars, trembling—and the world struck him less as something to observe and more as something expecting him to participate.

“Hey,” Stark said. “You all right?”

Stephen nodded. “Of course. Do you have a plan?”

Stark gave him a smile to make reporters swoon. “Of course I do. And only three-quarters of it is convincing everyone else to go along with it.” He nodded over his shoulder at the Guardians. “They stopped listening after I said ‘plan,’ so …” He shrugged. “Help me convince them it’s all their idea so that we maybe don’t die here?”

Stephen snorted. “Need help with your manipulation schemes, Stark? I’d thought you’d learned how to handle those on your own. Or with Ms. Potts now at the head of your company, have you forgotten how to get your way?”

“C’mon, doc, it’s just more fun when someone else is in on the game.”

“Or you’re covering for having lost your edge.”

“Given the stories I’ve heard about you, I’d say that having your help will make the game _more_ challenging, not less. You’re the least charismatic magician I’ve met.” Stark smiled. “And that includes the time Loki threw me out a window.”

Stephen chuckled. "Well, might as well brief me on what your plan is, if only so I can throw a wrench in your ideas of spreading it to the others."

"And if you think it's a good plan?"

"Then I'll still throw a wrench in there, but not too much of one. You know, get a double-bind going. Either they agree with my grievances, in which case I lead the conversation and bring them around to our opinion, or they disagree with me more than they disagree with you, so they make themselves listen to you in order to disagree with me."

"Where was all that tact when you were a doctor?"

"I started teaching."

"Your poor students."

"You're probably right about that." Stephen shook his head. "Wong definitely shouldn't let me teach them anything, considering how pig-headed I was when I was a student."

"Maybe you're just the horror story he shows the students, and he secretly teaches them in the dead of night, so that you continue being a horror without realizing that's your role in the hierarchy."

"I can only hope."

"Now time to turn that horror onto this giant grape that wants to abracadabra half the universe away."

"As if that were the way to deal with scarcity in the first place."

Stark rolled his eyes. "Don't even get me started on all the ways he's wrong. Hopefully, his battle tactics are as bad as his policies."

"What's the plan?"

"Well, he's expecting some of us to be here. You, because Maw was meant to bring you and the Stone. Maybe me and the kid, if Maw included info about being followed. But the rest are a surprise. So if we get him distracted, focusing on us—maybe also a magic copy of the Stone?—then the others can come in when his back's turned. Our best bet is getting the gauntlet off of him as soon as we can."

Stephen nodded. "Sounds like a good enough plan. But he has at least three stones now. One includes the Reality Stone. How're you planning on counteracting any of those?"

"The Space Stone I've only seen open portals, so that seems pretty much like you and your magic ring. The Power Stone, if it does what it says on the tin, just makes him stronger, so ... hopefully that's only to about Thor-level, because I've sparred with him before—briefly—and we should be able to manage that together. Peter has super-strength too." Stark grimaced and shrugged. "The Reality Stone sounds like it'll be a bitch. But it can't be just a 'if I will it, it happens' rock, because then Thanos wouldn't have to fight us for the other stones. He could just will them to him. So ... finding out the limits of what it can do would also be part of the plan. It might just be illusions. That'd be cool."

Stephen hummed. "All right. Distract, evade, gather intelligence, steal the gauntlet. That's the plan?"

"And then preferably you drop it down a portal to fall for eternity, yes."

"Maybe temporarily drop it down a portal until we find a better way to contain it," Stephen suggested. "Instead of dropping it some place between universes, I could have other sorcerers from Kamar-Taj aid in creating a pocket dimension for it."

"Well. Do whatever it takes to ensure it won't come back. I don't want some upstart sorcerer with big, vaguely genocidal plans to decide to break into the dimension and use its power for the 'greater good,' or anything like that." Stark grinned. "But that's something to think about after we win."

"Afterwards." Stephen looked to the rest of the group of heroes. "Think they'll like the plan?"

"It involves them coming in afterwards to save the day, so hopefully."

Stephen nodded. "Let's break the news to them, then."

Given the story of the dance-off to save the galaxy, Stephen shouldn't have been surprised to hear objections. Quill wanted to be in the first assault, though the temptation of being the hero swayed him. Drax despised the idea of waiting for his vengeance; that Stephen could understand, given the references to a murdered family, but emotions couldn't drive this assault.

"We need something up our sleeve, a secret weapon," Stark insisted. "Lie in wait and attack when we have Thanos distracted. That way, we can get the gauntlet off him. Then you guys can beat him to oblivion."

"We need him to tell us where Gamora is," Quill stated.

"Then question him once the gauntlet's off. Best way to get answers is to ask him once he's down."

Quill glared at Stark for a moment. "Fine. We'll go with your plan. It'd better end with us getting Gamora back."

They found their positions and waited for Thanos. Stephen and Stark stood together, with Peter waiting in the wings as a short-term distraction—hopefully, he could web up Thanos's gauntlet, if only for a little while. A small ways away, Quill, Drax, and Mantis hid. Mantis was to approach only if she saw an opening to get into Thanos's head. The other two were set to come in once Thanos was thoroughly occupied, be it through attempting to get the Time Stone or because Stephen, Stark, and Peter posed enough of a challenge to keep him distracted.

Thanos stepped through a portal.

The plan didn't last longer than a few minutes, with Drax running in, shouting for revenge near immediately. Realizing how many he faced, Thanos adjusted accordingly.

No one could touch him. Peter had managed to web his gauntlet long enough for Quill to fire his guns, for Stark to shoot his repulsers, but those only managed to make Thanos stumble a step or two. He pried the webbing from the metal.

They lost in that moment.

The dark red stone glowed on Thanos's gauntlet, and any cohesion fell apart then. Stephen watched as the others vanished from his sight, and the landscape of Titan was replaced by a labyrinth of roads twisting around him. The sun now gone from the sky, nighttime surrounded him. He could see trees and underbrush at the edges of the roads, but no more than that.

Cicadas shrieked in the darkness, or—no, he heard Peter scream. The sound was swallowed by the cicadas, and the howling of—something—but Stephen had heard Peter.

He gritted his teeth, trying to slow his breathing and see through the illusion—it had to be an illusion—so he could find the others. His surrounding had to be conjured by magic, even if not the sort he had learned, but _something_ that he could pull apart. He just had to find the threads.

He couldn’t find any threads. He couldn’t even feel his magic. No resonance or energy within him, nothing like what he had used to reach into before. Panic welled up within him.

He pushed it down. Such feelings couldn’t help him here.

He walked along the road, trying to follow where he heard Peter. But the road stretched on before him, occasionally coming to intersections and four-way stops, with no guidance for which direction he should go. Stephen continued walking.

Until he stopped, finding a bend that looked—familiar. The road arced past his field of vision, like something blocked just how sharp the turn was, like a hill or cluster of trees, just like—he swallowed. Walked to the far edge of the road in the turn. Looked into the darkness. It sloped downward. He could—just vaguely make out the stench of burnt rubber, of gasoline.

Stephen shuddered and stepped back. “It’s just an illusion,” he told himself. The cicadas continued their screaming.

He returned to walking along the road. What else could he do?

Something slammed into his side. He staggered off the road. The darkness swallowed him. His stomach plummeted, like he was falling, but—without anything to see, to ground him—he could only flail and hope to latch onto something, anything.

He hit the ground and his vision swam. The darkness mixed with glimpses of the red-orange sands of Titan.

“Dr. Str—” The cicadas roared louder. His head pounded. “—Strange—” The pain kept in time with his heartbeat. “—ange! Stra—” His heartbeat thudded in his ears, like waves crashing on stone.

“Dr. Strange!”

He opened his eyes with a start, sitting up, but blurriness and blackness clouded his vision. Spots danced in front of him. But, behind it all, daylight and sand were visible. Stephen looked around. Peter stared at him with frightened eyes, kneeling next to him.

“What—what happened?” he asked.

Peter shook his head. “I—I don’t know. Drax came in and then Thanos got the web off—I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, that—”

“Was not your fault. What happened after Thanos used the Stone?”

“He—I don’t know, but I was—” Peter swallowed. “I was under the building again. I—I couldn’t—I don’t know. I was there—I don’t know! It felt like seconds and hours at the same time, but I—” He shook his head. “Mr. Stark got me out, somehow, I don’t know, I don’t know how he got out, if he got put s-somewhere, but then—he told me to get you, get anyone I could, but I—I don’t know how to reach any of them, but I—Thanos was about to go after you, for the—for the Stone, so I—I had to do _something,_ so I got you out of the way—sorry, if I—if it hurt, I didn’t mean to hit you so hard, but I—I didn’t know what else to do, and now—now—”

“Take a deep breath,” Stephen instructed. “I’m uninjured.” Mostly. “Where’s Stark?”

“He’s—he’s fighting Thanos, they’re just beyond the ship wreckage, I don’t—I can’t get the others up. Dr. Strange, I—” Peter sucked in a sharp breath. “I think we’re losing.”

Stephen pressed his lips together in a thin line. “I think so, too.” He forced himself to stand. “We need to help Stark.”

“What about—what about the others?”

Stephen glanced around at the limp bodies of their other allies. He couldn’t even tell if Quill and Drax were breathing. He swallowed. “If they’re not fine this time around, I won’t let this be the actual timeline.” He looked to Peter. “You won’t remember this, okay?”

“But—”

“If you couldn’t shake them out of their visions, then I won’t be able to do anything, either. I didn’t get myself out of mine; you shook me out of it. Come on. Stark needs us.”

That steeled Peter’s resolve. His eyes hardened and his jaw tightened and he nodded. He pulled his mask over his face. Stephen followed him around the crashed ship.

Thanos had a piece of Stark’s suit in hand, sharpened and aimed at his stomach.

“Thanos!” Stephen shouted. “Might as well jump planet now. The Time Stone’s probably halfway across the universe now. Doubt you’ll ever get to find it.”

Thanos paused. “You lie.”

“Nope. Called an old friend with a vendetta against you. You might’ve heard of him. Loki? Has a penchant for theft and having some of the fastest portals I’ve seen. You shouldn’t have turned your back on the person who had what you wanted here.”

“Now you lie like an idiot. I killed Loki.” Thanos grinned.

“Did you? Odd. He seemed plenty alive to me.” Stephen shrugged. “Of course, he’s faked his own death before. He pretended to be Odin for a while, just to keep up the charade.”

Thanos narrowed his eyes. “The Eye is still around your neck.”

“Does Loki seem the type to accessorize with this little thing? It’s hardly old enough for him to sneeze at.”

“You’re _lying.”_

“Am I?” Stephen grinned this time. “Hasn’t Loki escaped with an Infinity Stone of yours before? Perhaps you should use that one to try and find him.”

Thanos ground his teeth together. “Perhaps I will.” The yellow stone on his gauntlet glowed, and all the ships crumbled with a crash. “And should I not find him, it’s not like you will be able to escape anywhere.” He turned his sights onto Stark. “Perhaps they will remember him instead of you.”

He drove the spike into Stark’s stomach.

Peter screamed.

Thanos disappeared in a flurry of black and blue.

Before Peter even reached Stark’s pale, bleeding form, Stephen started from the beginning, stomach like a churning lead.


	2. Chapter 2

**Two.**

“Hey.”

Stephen looked up to see Stark standing before him, in one piece, skin no longer paling from blood loss, the Iron Man suit wrapped around him in the deception of protection. Stephen’s hands shook.

“You all right?” Stark asked. Stephen opened his mouth, but he couldn’t find any words. Stark’s brow furrowed. “Strange?”

“I—I’m fine,” he managed. “I—” He gestured at the Eye. “Just … checking possible futures.”

“How many do we win?”

Stephen blanched.

“Oh.” Stark blinked. “Well. Fuck.” He looked down at his feet, shifted his weight. “Well,” he started, “I guess we should figure out what we should try to do, given what didn’t work the other times.”

“Time,” Stephen corrected. “I’ve only seen one other timeline so far.”

“Jesus, then don’t give me a look that says we died in a million and a half or something when you haven’t looked very far.” Stark grinned. “Tell us what not to do, and we’ll piece it together from there.”

Stephen sighed, but nodded. "The distraction plan isn't a bad one, per se," he began. "But ... our allies are not the most ..."

"Competent?" Stark supplied. "Yeah, I already pieced that one together, thanks. Anything else you got?"

"I'll help you distract Thanos, but I will also have to turn my attention to preventing Drax and Quill from running out prematurely. You don't have to divide your attention between fighting Thanos and protecting me—if Thanos kills me, he will never get the Time Stone, it's bound too soundly to me. But I will not be able to focus all my efforts on distracting Thanos in this case."

Stark pursed his lips. "And you're sure that's the best course of action?"

"We need to separate Thanos and the gauntlet. Taking him as much by surprise as possible seems likely to be the best way to do that. If he uses the Reality Stone again—it renders most of us incapable of doing anything. He can cast us into our own visions of nightmares." Stephen took a slow breath. "He put me back on the road of my—accident. He placed Peter under a building."

Stark's fists clenched. "Okay, so we keep that from happening. Anything else?"

Stephen paused. "Not that I can think of. Let's bring the rest of them up to speed."

Quill and Drax argued with the sentiment that they were the reason Stark's plan didn't work last time around. Regardless, they agreed to try harder—"How do we 'try harder' to do something we haven't done before?" Quill complained—to stay out of sight before it was advantageous to confront Thanos.

The set-up was very nearly the same.

Stephen watched as it fell to pieces even faster.

His attention split between distracting Thanos, protecting Stark and Peter, and preventing Drax and Quill from running into the fray too quickly, he didn't see the circumstances falling into place until it was too late.

Peter shoved Stark out of the way, entering the field quicker than last time, blocking a swing of Thanos's fist. Thanos gave him a twisted grin, and the Reality Stone glowed like blood.

Peter yelped and sprung backwards, swatting at things Stephen couldn't see. The Power Stone glowed and a piece of the ship came hurtling towards Peter. Stephen released Drax and Quill to create a portal above Peter and one above Thanos, so the metal hurtled into him instead of the young superhero.

Drax and Quill sprang into action, rushing into the fray.

Too many people who hadn't worked together before led to too many disasters. Stark aimed his repulsers at Thanos, but he used the Space Stone to portal out of the line of fire. Quill instead too it as a glancing hit.

"Shit, sorry," Stark called, already trying to attack Thanos again.

Peter shot webbing at Thanos and his gauntlet, to try and keep his fist open. One caught Drax as he tried to run at Thanos, and he tripped. Still into Thanos, making them both stagger somewhat, but the Power Stone glowed once more as Thanos threw Drax out of the way.

“Mr. Drax!”

He hit a rock formation, which Thanos brought down on him, and he didn't stand back up.

Quill's blaster wasn't doing much against Thanos, but he finally seemed annoyed with the hits, because the Reality Stone lit on the gauntlet and the blaster blew up in Quill's face the next time he fired. He shouted and scrambled away, face burnt and bleeding. He wiped his eyes and scanned for another weapon.

The Power Stone shone on Thanos's gauntlet and a meteorite in Titan's orbit drew closer, hurtling through the atmosphere, towards them. Thanos grinned.

Stark flew up to try to stop it, to delay its descent. Peter webbed Quill out of the way and then dug for Drax, dragging his unconscious body from the rocks. Stephen eyed the meteorite, but the size—he'd never tried to transport anything of that magnitude before.

Instead, he stepped through a portal and stepped out next to Peter, already casting a shield of intricate gold designs. _Stark,_ he wanted to shout. He waited, watched as the meteorite continued its fiery fall.

Stark didn't fly away from it, but it did arc away from them, somewhat, despite its speed and the frown on Thanos's face.

The ground shook on impact. Sand and dirt and rock flew through the air. Thanos disappeared into a blue and black portal. Stephen gritted his teeth and focused on the shield.

Once the dust had settled, he dropped the shield and fell to his knees, panting, hands shaking. Peter placed a concerned hand on his shoulder.

"I'm all right," Stephen reassured. "Just—that took more out of me than expected."

Peter nodded and then rushed to the debris of the crashed meteorite to look for Stark.

"Mr. Stark!" he called. "Mr. Stark!"

Stephen, unable to stand, listened as Peter searched.

"Mr. Stark, where are you?" The clamber of rock moving against metal, or rock against rock. Peter grunting, likely of exertion, likely moving heavy pieces of rubble. A gasp. "No. No. Dr. Strange! Dr. Strange, come—come help! Mr. Stark, he—Mr. Stark, wake up, Mr. Stark—"

Stephen closed his eyes. He let time rewind.


	3. Chapter 3

**Four.**

Setting his jaw, Stephen willed the paleness from his face, clenched his shaking fists until the nerves cried out. He had no time for mourning. “We need a new plan,” he stated, dragging Stark off to the side, away from the group. He dragged his feet, but followed.

“You haven’t even heard the current plan.” He crossed his arms.

Stephen forced a sneer to keep from choking. “I have. It doesn’t work. We need a new plan,” he repeated. Stark crossed his arms.

“Any ideas, Harry Potter?”

"We leave. Go back to Earth. I'll open a portal, get everyone through. We can't fight this battle on our own; we _need_ back-up. This isn't something we can do here and now. We've tried."

Stark crossed his arms. "I haven't."

"Yes, you have. We've—we've done this before; I'm—I'm trying, okay, to find the best outcome, the best solution to all of this, but—we have to at least try this, okay? I can't keep—" Stephen took a deep breath. "If one plan doesn't work—and, let's be clear, this one doesn't—then we have to try something else. I know you said we should bring the battle to Thanos, on his turf, where he isn't expecting it, instead of on Earth, but—our allies are on Earth. Wakanda, the Sanctum, whatever is left of SHIELD and the Avengers. There are people on our side who can help."

"And where would we have the battle? Where could we lure Thanos that wouldn't threaten the rest of the planet? Not everyone has superpowers or magic or a suit of armor—we can't just bring Thanos to Earth and let him endanger billions of people."

"He endangers them regardless of whether we're here with the Time Stone or not—in fact, he endangers them more when he returns to Earth _with_ the Time Stone. I'm not saying we can totally avoid collateral, but if we could find somewhere else to face him, with more people on our side—it's worth a shot, if it means saving half the universe, right?"

"And if it fails?"

"Why are you so against going back to Earth? What if this could be the only way that we win this?"

"Because I'll just be failing them all over again!" Stark shouted. Stephen blinked, taken by surprise. "I've been warning them—over, and over, and over again, because _I know what I saw,_ but did they ever listen? So I worked. I worked and worked and obviously nothing I've made has come close to being enough to stop Thanos and the army I saw heading towards Earth—in fact, some of them have made things _worse,_ and this is just one more thing. 'Tony, why couldn't you have told us? Why couldn't you have seen this? Why couldn't you have thought what might come next and have taken _responsibility_ for once?' As if I never fucking have! And you want to run right back to the people who—they won't fight at my side anymore. Probably won't trust you, if you come back with me anyway, so—"

"What are you talking about?"

"Keep up with the news much in your glorious Sanctum Emporium?"

"Sanctum Sanctorum," Stephen corrected. "And ... some. But I travel frequently to Kamar-Taj to conduct classes—"

"So you missed most of the clusterfuck that the media dubbed 'Civil War,' huh?"

"... I heard that Mr. Steve Rogers and a number of the Avengers went on the run, as they disagreed with the conduct and purpose of the Accords." Stephen paused. "I know that you were found by King T'Challa under Mr. Sam Wilson's advising in Siberia. You weren't seen by the public for almost a week, and then only briefly at a press conference mainly led by Ms. Pepper Potts, and then no one heard from you for months."

Stark laughed, so bitter it stung. "Yeah. I guess that's the gist of it. If you ignore that Rogers knew who killed my mom—my parents—and didn't tell me, let me keep thinking it was my dad driving drunk again, and—you know, he defended the man who did it. Sure, he wasn't in control—I wasn't—I wasn't going to make him face trial, and I wasn't going—I wouldn't have killed him. I could have." He chuckled. "Iron Man suit had enough fire power. I _could have._ Didn't matter much to Rogers that all I did was throw a few punches before I was fighting both of them for my life—they—he, Rogers, _he_ left me in Siberia, Barnes wasn't—much in his right mind, not exactly his fault, had—some problems, but _Rogers?_ Slammed his shield into the arc reactor, didn't know I had it officially removed from my chest—he—he—" Stark hiccuped. Maybe laughed again. "And you want me to go _back_ to him now? Apologize, tail between my legs, and ask for help? He'll just blame me for bringing him a problem too big for him to fix. No, we—we need to stop it, stop Thanos, _now,_ before he gets to Earth, to the other Stones, before—the Mind Stone is in all I've got left of—even if it isn't him—he's innocent—"

"Stark," Stephen cut in. "I need you to breathe. I—I think you're having an anxiety attack."

"'My diagnosis is that you are experiencing a severe anxiety attack,'" he mocked. "Like I haven't heard that one before—"

"Given your history, I'd be more surprised if you hadn't. Now, please, take a deep breath and let it out slowly." Stephen waited to listen to Stark's breathing a moment. He glared, but, regardless, melodramatically inhaled and exhaled slowly. "Now, most of what you're going through, I'd tell you to see a mental health professional about, and otherwise I'd tell you to see a physician to check out a variety of health factors such as your lung capacity and ribcage integrity, but given that others have likely either told you the same or have forced you to do such, I won't repeat that. In this moment, I need you to understand that I'm not telling you that we should return to Earth because you cannot handle this fight. I'm telling you that we have tried to fight Thanos on his own field and it does not play to our advantage. The smart thing is to find a better place to fight him. He'll follow us anywhere, because he wants the Time Stone. We can lead him wherever we want. I think having more allies to back us up in a fight is the best play. Do you at least agree with that?"

“… you think you can get us to Earth with your magic teleporter ring?”

“Sling ring. Yes.”

“… all right. Worth a shot, I guess. You ever been to Wakanda? Dropping us there to talk to T’Challa—and meet with the—Ex-vengers—would be easiest.”

Stephen shook his head. “I can’t open a portal somewhere I’ve never been. It’ll be safest for me to open one to Kamar-Taj. We’ll contact those we need to once we’re there.”

“Well. Let’s break it to everybody else. We’re going to a super-secret Hogwarts in the Himalayans.”

“It’s in Kathmandu, so it’s really in the Himalayan foothills, but …” Stephen trailed off with a small smile. Stark rolled his eyes and walked back to the group, Stephen following.

“Himalayan Mountain _region,_ is that good enough for you? Should’ve figured you were a pedant.” Stark shook his head. “Anyway. Gather ‘round, here ye, whatever,” he called for everyone’s attention. “Our fairy godmother is going to bibbidi bobbidi boo us all to Earth so we can regroup with more allies and have a little more time to prepare for Thanos. Sound good?”

“What?” Quill asked. “No, he has Gamora. We have to face him; we’ve got to get her back.”

“Thanos will follow us wherever we take the Time Stone,” Stephen assured. “We’ll get her back.”

“No, you don’t understand, she _can’t_ stay with him. She wanted—she had me try to _kill_ her before Thanos could take her—who knows what he’s done to her, what he will do to her. We have to get her back before anything worse happens.”

“Losing here won’t put us in any better position to save Gamora than leading Thanos to Earth and maybe winning would,” Stephen replied. “She wouldn’t want you to risk the fate of the universe for her either, would she?”

Quill bit his lip. “Fine. Let’s go.”

Stephen nodded and adjusted the sling ring on his hand. He reached for his magic and began casting the circle. Sparks flew. Stephen frowned. Shifted his stance. Something felt—off-balance, like he stood on uneven ground with his magic. Like the energies around pulled and pushed him, different from on Earth.

“Strange?” Stark asked. “Something wrong?”

“No. Nothing’s wrong.” He redoubled his efforts, closing his eyes and picturing Kamar-Taj in the best detail he could muster, searching for the thread that would connect this portal to the temple. Even when he found it, holding it—something still felt wrong about it. Stephen opened his eyes to see a portal with the courtyard of Kamar-Taj on the other side. “I’ll go through last,” he said. Stark nodded.

“Let’s get going, then.” Despite his words, Stark eyed the portal with suspicion. “We can’t wait around until Thanos catches up and finds out where we’re going.”

Quill nodded, and he led Drax and Mantis through the portal. Stephen’s stomach dropped, even though the portal displayed them now standing on the other side, still looking like the courtyard of the temple. Peter and Tony approached it.

_Wait,_ Stephen wanted to say. But that would be ridiculous. This was his idea, for one, but everything also looked fine. _This doesn’t_ feel _fine though._ Stephen watched the two walk through.

He followed.

The ground dropped away from his feet and the threads of the portal frayed around them, having connected to the image of where they were going, but not the—not the _place._ The coldness of emptiness, of lack, surrounded them.

Stephen didn’t even have the time to curse before he rewound time.


	4. Chapter 4

**Seven.**

Stephen retched, the Eye flinging him back—once again—to just before the cursed battle. Bile burned up his throat, through his nose, and he choked as it came up, coughing.

A hand rested on his shoulder. “Hey, buddy,” Stark murmured, voice low. “Breathe. You’re all right. Just breathe.”

Stephen dry-heaved through a sob. “I—I—”

“Take your time,” Stark interrupted. “Take your time. Just focus on your breathing, okay? Long, slow exhale. Don’t try to talk yet.”

Peter poked his head around Stark’s shoulder. “It’s gonna be okay, Dr. Strange,” he assured. “We’ll figure this out. Won’t we, Mr. Stark?”

“Yeah. Yeah, of course we will, kid.”

Stephen shook his head and stared at his hands. _No more,_ he told himself, unable to reach Earth from Titan and unwilling to put himself through the loss of failing. Again.

“We have to get back to Earth,” he said through gritted teeth. “Get—get Quill over here, we’re going to need his ship. We have to—have to get back, or else—”

“Slow down,” Stark interrupted. “We don’t have to do anything until you look steady enough to handle a slight breeze. Peter, go get the leader of the dumbasses. In the meantime, Strange, just—take some deep breaths. We’ll get going when you’re ready.”

“No, no, I—I saw, okay, we need to—”

“We will. We’ve got to have a little time, right?”

Quill followed Peter. He opened his mouth, but Stephen cut him off before he could start. “We need your ship. I’ll make a portal. We’ll fly through it. We’ve got to get off this fucking—”

“Woah, woah. We’ve got to get Gamora. We can’t just _leave._ Thanos has her!”

“You think he’ll bring her with him? We can find her later—we’ll be able to find her once we’re off this godforsaken rock—”

“No, we—”

Stephen scowled. “Stark, Peter, go talk to the rest of the Guardians and learn about their ship. We’re leaving. I’ll convince _Star-Lord.”_

“Hey, don’t use my name like it’s an insult—” Quill complained as Stark and Peter shared a look and walked away. “We have to find Gamora—”

“We won’t find her here. Where’s the last place you saw her?”

“Knowhere—”

“Give me an actual fucking answer, and we both get what we want. Where did you last see her?”

“I told you, Knowhere. It’s a planetary trading hub; Thanos took her when we tried to protect the Reality Stone.”

Stephen blinked. _“Fucking alien names,”_ he cursed. “Okay. Fine. Describe it to me. We’ll fly through a portal there and try to track her from there. We get off this planet—moon—whatever, we keep the Time Stone away from Thanos, and we look for Gamora. Sound good?”

“We should—”

“Fighting doesn’t work. We’ve tried. Don’t you want to get Gamora back?”

“Of course, but—”

“Stop arguing, don’t tell anyone else the plan, and describe the hub to me. Now.”

Quill described the hub—its port, the area around it, the constellations used to navigate—as well as possible. Stephen corralled everyone into the ship. Quill took the pilot’s position, geared up the ship, and Stephen opened a portal.

He clung to the image Quill described as best he could, the fabric of the portal frayed and poorly woven.

Quill directed the ship through it.

It closed behind them. They stared at the space unfolded before them. “I don’t recognize any of these stars,” Quill said. He checked the ship’s navigation system. “No maps. No records. How the hell are we supposed to find Gamora now? Or defeat Thanos?”

“Keeping the stone from him is the most important thing right now,” Stephen said. “He can’t kill half the universe without all the stones.”

“What are we supposed to do now?”

Stephen glanced around, noting Peter’s wide eyes and Stark’s set jaw. “We’ll find something. We can—find a trading hub or something. Get me a piece of the currency and I can replicate it. Stark, if we get you material, you can create gadgets to sell. We’ll buy food, necessities—we’ll be all right.”

“Are we … living in space now?” Peter asked.

“… Thanos would find us if we went back to Earth.”

Peter looked down. “Oh …” Stark put a hand on Peter’s shoulder.

Stephen sighed. They all had lives, family—Stephen had destroyed all hope of ever returning to Earth. He looked out at the stars ahead of them. Hopefully it was worth it.

The days crept by.

Supplies ran low.

They didn’t find any planets, hubs, stations, or other markings of civilization. They flew through star system after star system. The planets that looked habitable gave no sign of possessing knowledge of space travel. Landing—for now, they agreed—seemed too dangerous.

Peter got sick.

“No, no, Mr. Stark, I’m—I’m fine, just—hungry, but it’s okay, I just—”

Stark gave his rations to Peter. Stephen gave up some of his own, too. Stark’s face grew gaunt, his frame bonier. Peter grew weaker. Stephen set up in what constituted as the ship’s ‘med-bay.’ The Guardians kept to themselves, mostly, anyway. Quill glared at Stephen whenever they crossed paths.

“Don’t get out of bed,” Stephen snapped.

“I’m not—it’s just—” Peter swallowed. “I’m fine, I just—”

“You’re not fine.”

“I’m as fine as everyone else!”

“No.”

Stark came back, the day’s rations in hand. He gave two to Peter and one to Stephen.

“No, Mr. Stark—”

“Eat up, kid.”

“But—”

“Eat.” Stark’s tone brooked no argument.

“Slowly,” Stephen advised. “You’re sick because you’re starving. Eating too fast will make it worse.” He set his own ration to the side. He could force Stark to eat half of it later.

“Do you … do you think we’re gonna die? Out here?” Peter asked. Stephen bit his tongue.

“’Course not, kid,” Stark said. “Eat some of your food and then go to sleep, okay? Take a nap and eat the rest when you wake up.”

“I’m not—”

“Save as much energy as you can, Peter, c’mon. Basic bio. You and Bruce always were the fleshy experts, right?”

Peter frowned. “Bio’s better than physics.”

“I’m not standing for such blasphemy. Eat your food and take a nap.”

Peter pouted, but he ate one of the rations—slowly, like Stephen said—and grumbled before letting Stephen put the food to the side. “I’m not tired,” he complained. He fell asleep in less than ten minutes.

Stephen sighed. “I don’t know why he’s going through so many calories. More than he should be—”

“It’s his powers. That kid—” Stark rubbed his hand over his face. “We’re going to die out here, doc.”

“Most people ask me that. They don’t tell me.”

“We haven’t found anything out here. Looks like the young universe hypothesis is right; nothing’s had enough time to grow out here, or—something. Peter’s going to starve. If he doesn’t die of dehydration first, and—I don’t want him to have to go through that.”

“What are you asking of me?”

“Turn it back. You’re jumping through timelines, right? Why have you stuck with this one so long?”

“Because we haven’t lost yet.”

Stark gritted his teeth. “If Peter dies, it’s a loss.”

“I admire your affection for the kid, but—”

“But nothing. If we all die out here, there’s nothing stopping Thanos from finding the stone and taking it off your corpse. He’s got the Reality Stone. I doubt your spells are strong enough to counteract changing the laws of the universe. So he’ll get it. We—” He sighed. “We need a universe where we _beat_ Thanos, not one where we run from him forever.”

“You don’t know what I’ve seen.”

“No. I don’t. But I do know that you can’t open a portal from Titan to somewhere you’ve never been. And you likely wouldn’t have tried it if you could get us to Earth without us dying or losing. So we need to stay on Titan next time.”

“Next time.”

“Yeah. Promise me.”

“You won’t remember the promise.”

“But you will. You’ve already seen how many timelines? How many times have we died? How many times do you blame yourself for us losing?” Stark shrugged. “My money’s on you holding up your promise. Do no harm, right, doc? This is doing harm.”

“Fighting Thanos causes more harm.”

“Not if we win.”

“You don’t know what winning looks like.”

“I know it doesn’t look like this.”

“Maybe if I try again, open a portal somewhere better—”

“You can’t guarantee that.”

“But I could. I just have to try enough.”

“We can’t run forever.”

“We can try.”

“And what is Thanos doing? Tracking us? Is he going to find our dead bodies? Or maybe he’s not. Maybe he’s tearing worlds apart just with the stones he has right now. Maybe people are dying anyway. We have to fight, Strange.”

“… what if we lose?”

“We can’t. You’ll keep looking. You just have to know that this isn’t what winning looks like.”

Stephen looked at Peter. He sighed. Nodded. “See you soon.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Fifteen.**

Stephen scowled. Golden mandalas encircled his arms. “I’ll never give you the stone,” he spat.

“Then I’ll just take it off your dead body!” Thanos snarled. Stephen bit back a laugh. _Maybe this will be the one, then,_ he thought, _if Thanos can’t get all the stones._ A charming thought: he’d spent lifetimes running from his death using the Time Stone to save the world, and now might save it by dying for it.

He watched the Reality stone glow like blood, watched the blade appear in Thanos’s hand. Passive, unmoving, he stared down the death swiftly approaching.

Thanos, face twisted into a scowl, hurled the blade at him. Stephen closed his eyes.

He waited.

A sharp breath. A hiss. A cough that sounded wet, choked—

Stephen opened his eyes.

Stark grinned at him, mouth bloody. The blade protruded from his side.

“You damn fool,” Stephen said, voice hollow with shock. “Why would you do that?”

“Gotta save the universe somehow.” Stark slid to his knees. “Figured your creepy jewelry has a better chance rescuing us ‘round your pretty neck.”

Stephen swallowed. “I—I can’t save you.”

“Not this time ‘round. ‘S a’ight. Save the universe ‘stead.”

“But we need you.” Stephen choked. “I can’t do this without you.”

“Sure you can. Promise. You got all you need.”

“Don’t make me do this again.”

“Then win. Don’t do it again.”

Thanos, jarred from his shock, roared, raging. Stephen ground his teeth together. A light burned under his skin. He leaned Tony against a boulder, as gentle as possible, before turning on Thanos, face tight. “You’ll regret what you’ve done today,” he swore. “You’ll regret it today, and tomorrow, and every day that I repeat this fight. Until we’ve buried you and all you stand for so deeply into the ground that the light of any day is but a dream.”

Thanos stared.

Green light encircled Stephen’s arms. Burns reddened his skin beneath their rings, but, paying them no mind, he gritted his teeth together and sneered. Thanos took a step back. Stephen’s eyes shone green, no iris or sclera to be seen.

“Do you know now, the power of the Stones unlocked? Unbridled?” he spat, voices overlapping—old and young, like an entity born with the universe and present at its death. “They will consume you and nothing will be left.”

“I am—”

“A withering plight on the universe. Something waiting to be forgotten.”

Thanos snarled. The Power Stone glowed like cold sunlight—pale and sickly—and he barreled at Stephen. The wintery gold met springtime green and the air crackled.

Tony watched with blurring vision. Thanos stepped towards Stephen, fist flying—Thanos rewound and Stephen blinked into a different place, behind him—Thanos’s fist hurled through empty air—a circle opened beneath Thanos—he reappeared on the ground.

Tony’s eyes closed.

Thud. “Sorcerer—”

A low drone, a slow whir. A snarl. “Yield.” A grunt, growl—the scrape of metal skidding over stone.

“Never.”

“Then never exist at all.”

A scream of anguish, the likes of which Tony had never heard, echoed through the desolate planet’s air, a cry through the atmosphere, screeching dissonant tones, nails on chalkboard, shivers down spines—enough to make minds shudder.

He forced his heavy eyes open. Bone crumbled to ash before Stephen.

The green halo about him dimmed. Stephen dropped to his knees, quaking.

“Stephen?” Tony called.

Stephen flinched, face contorting, and closed his eyes. He dropped his head to the ground, as in prayer, as in begging. Pleading. Like a supplicant to some mighty, unfeeling god.

Tony coughed. Warm blood spilled, sticky, onto his lips. “Stephen? Stephen, what—”

“Just—” Stephen choked. “A moment, Stark.”

He nodded, movement choppy, and slowed his breath. The blade burned in his side, hot blood pooling from the wound—Tony’s breath caught. His chest ached. Peter, Peter, where was—

“Stark.”

Tony jumped. Stephen held up his shaking hands. Tony stared at him. His eyes bloodshot, skin pallid, face gaunt—

“What—what did you do?”

Stephen grimaced. “Something I can’t do again.”

Tony looked past him, to the ancient-looking skeleton of Thanos. “Good. We’re done then, huh?” Tony smiled weakly. “We won.”

“This isn’t winning.”

“What? What do you—”

“Don’t worry about it.” Stephen inspected Tony’s wound. “I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault, Doc. Not everything can be fixed. I’ve had more than my fair share of miracles.” Tony coughed again. “Fuck, dying hurts more than I remember.”

Stephen clenched his fists until his knuckles went white and his teeth gritted. “You’ll be okay.”

“Doc.” Tony shook his head. “We both know I won’t. Is—Peter’s okay, right?”

“Yeah. Yes.”

“Okay, good. Make sure he gets back to his aunt. For me.”

“Do—do it yourself, you—lazy ass.”

Stark huffed a small laugh and closed his eyes.

“Stark, stay with me. Don’t—Stark, don’t shut your eyes. Come on, Stark—”

“Tony.” He coughed, and blood spattered his lips. “I’m dying—in your arms. It’s Tony.”

“You’re not dying, Stark. Stay—stay with me.” Stark gave him a look and coughed again. “Fine, fine, Tony. Tony. I need you to keep your eyes open. Tony. I’ll call you anything you’d like. I’ll let you call the Eye of Agamotto anything you’d like. Tony. Please, just—”

Tony chuckled even though it made blood drip from the corner of his mouth. “Never thought I’d hear you say please like that, doc.” He closed his eyes.

“Tony. Tony. No. No, no, no, no. Tony. Please. Wake up. Wake up. Tony.” Stephen babbled, uselessly pressing his tremoring hands to the wound piercing Tony’s lung. “You’re going to wake up. Pull through. Like the cocky son of a bitch you are, right? Tony. Tony. Not—not again, Tony, please.”

Peter dropped from the metal structure overhead. “Mr. Stark?” he ventured, voice cracking. “Mr. Stark?” He tore off his mask and dropped to his knees beside Tony. “Mr. Stark. What—what’s—”

Stephen gritted his teeth and wound back time before Peter could finish his question.


	6. Chapter 6

**Twenty-nine.**

“Please, let me save you,” Stephen begged. “I’ll send you—you and Peter—back to Earth. You can—you can find the others, tell them what’s coming, prepare them—best that you can—be ready when Thanos comes.”

“I’m not leaving you here.” Tony shook his head. “We need as many people here as we’ve got. We have a chance to stop Thanos from even making it to Earth—”

“Except we don’t stop him!” Stephen interrupted. “We can’t. We’ve tried. You—you’ve tried. But if you and Peter being back on Earth means a better chance, then—”

“Then why not send everyone back?”

Stephen looked down at his hands. “I … tried. The distance, the portal—but I can get you and Peter back.” _I have to._ “Let me send you back.”

“Send Peter back. He shouldn’t have been on the ship anyway.”

“He won’t leave without you.” Stephen frowned. “I won’t send him without you.”

“You are not seriously bargaining the kid’s life with me so that I run away from this battle too, are you?” Tony shook his head. “This is bigger than just my life, Strange! This is bigger than any single person’s life!”

_Not to me. Not if it’s you._

“What happened to your oath?” Tony continued. “You swore you’d protect the Stone over any person’s life, including yours, including Peter’s, including _mine._ Did that change in the time from being on the ship to now? In the last couple of hours?”

Stephen barked a short, cold laugh. “I’ve relived these last couple of hours—and the fast-approaching couple—almost thirty times now. Want to know what they’ve all ended with? You dying. Forgive me for not wanting to see that again. And again.”

“Have you checked to see if my dying is necessary yet?”

“What?”

“We’re in a war to save the universe. This isn’t something you get to rewrite for one person’s life. Maybe I _have_ to sacrifice myself for us to win.”

“This isn’t a time for you to bring out your self-martyrdom bullshit, Tony!”

“I’m not! Do you think I want to die here? I promised Pepper ‘no more surprises,’ and then ended up on a ship halfway across the fucking solar system. No, I don’t want to die on some moon orbiting Saturn trying to keep a delusional, genocidal maniac from wiping half the universe out of existence, but we don’t always get what we want, and there are things more important than the particulars of who dies, so long as it isn’t half the fucking life in existence!” Tony clenched his fists. “We don’t get to be scared here. We don’t get to pick and choose how we want this to end. There’s one ending. That’s it. The one where Thanos is gone and the universe isn’t cut in half. How we get there doesn’t fucking matter.”

“So if you had the chance, you wouldn’t make sure to find the way to win without losing Peter?”

Tony grimaced. “I’d make sure we really _won_ before accepting it, and I’d hate myself for it for the rest of my life, but even I can’t be that selfish. I’d sooner die than let Peter sacrifice himself, but—if that’s how we save the universe, then there isn’t much I can do about it, is there?”

“I’m going to keep looking.”

“Look for whether or not we win. Not who we lose along the way.”

Stephen sneered. “I’m not going to just _give up.”_

“Sometimes, you have to cut your losses. You can’t save everyone; you can’t protect everyone—you’ll lose people along the way. In a battle this big, it’s inevitable.”

“You’re only saying that because it’s _your_ death I’m trying to prevent.”

“Ask anyone from the team afterward. I’m not the one to make the sacrifice. But in something like this, with the universe at stake, even I’m willing to step up to the plate.”

“You really expect me to believe that.” Stephen shook his head. “‘Not the one to make the sacrifice’? Really? You’re going to try to sell me that, even though I’ve watched you _die_ from wounds you’ve taken to save other people. Not to mention that the whole world was watching when you flew a missile into a portal and almost didn’t come back out. Or, going back further, when you risked tanking your entire company by switching from solely weapons manufacturing—or very nearly solely—to pursuing other tech including clean energy and trauma treatment.”

Tony stared at him.

“Whoever fed you those lines about you not being up for the sacrifice either doesn’t know you at all, or wanted to manipulate you into making a sacrifice they didn’t want to make. You’ve laid your life down for Quill, Drax, _and_ Mantis, multiple times, even though we only just met them. Not to count the times you’ve saved Peter at the cost of your own life. So my apologies if I’m not chomping at the bit to listen to your speech about this war being bigger than any individual’s life. You just think it’s bigger than your own life.”

“… how many times are you going to look?”

“As many times as it takes.”

“And if you don’t find a time where we win?”

“I’ll make one.”

**Author's Note:**

> Confession: I don’t know how the Time Stone works in Infinity War. Looking into the future at various timelines isn’t something we had seen it do before, so I treated it vaguely like creating a timeloop and resetting it, but we also didn’t see Stephen’s body go anywhere while he was in the Time Stone. Also, would he have been able to see past his death? The Ancient One couldn’t. But Stephen comes back to life later. Does that mean there’s a gap in the time he can see, or can he see the entirety of it because he comes back? So sorry if how I treat the Time Stone is confusing in this; I kind of blended multiple interpretations of it into one product.  
This fic will be updated every Friday. Feel free to hmu if you want to talk about the logistics of magic in the MCU; find me at my tumblr: w-m-blake.tumblr.com


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